Unmade
by ASDF Rainbow Ninja
Summary: A group of interesting and different teenagers all suffer from their own personal Hell. As they attempt to cope with it, their lives seem to continue changing against their wills. They have to find their light in the dark, and allow their light save them from what no one ever wants to be- unmade. Clintasha, Pepperoni, Bretty, Steggy, Thorane, Loki? High school AU. ON HAITUS.
1. Bruised but Not Broken

**Chapter 1- Bruised but Not Broken**

**A/N- I couldn't resist. I love the Avengers so much! I'm trying to follow their normal life as much as possible, but there are some differences. They are all on purpose. And they don't have any powers or anything. Just kids in high school. But they have the same personalities and similar conditions. For example, Bruce has anger issues and a heart condition. **

**And I don't know who you like better- Edward Norton or Mark Ruffalo as the Hulk. But I'm picturing Edward and giving his character qualities of both.**

**_NOT TAKING OC'S._**

**Couples and ages:**

**(15) ClintXNatasha (15)**

**(16) TonyXPepper (17)**

**(16) ThorXJane (15)**

**(15) SteveXPeggy (14)**

**(16) BruceXElizabeth (15)**

**(15) LokiX?**

**Freshmen:**

**Clint**

**Natasha**

**Steve**

**Peggy**

**Sophomores:**

**Tony**

**Pepper**

**Thor**

**Jane**

**Loki**

**Bruce**

**Elizabeth**

* * *

Natasha had always been an extremely light sleeper.

She thanked God for it, too. If she weren't a light sleeper, God knows where she would be.

Or Clint.

Her uncle, whom she lived with, on the other hand, was an extremely heavy sleeper. His snores were more like rumbles of boisterous thunder, and Natasha could faintly hear it from the first floor when she was in her room on the second.

_"God forbid we have a burglary." _she constantly thought to herself.

But believe it or not, his heavy sleeping was extremely beneficial on her part. Almost every night, she had to deal with something of importance, and if her uncle knew about it, she'd be grounded even until after he was- and she really didn't feel like having no privileges until her 50th year.

A sudden noise jarred her from her sleep. It was familiar, and did not startle her. On instinct, she shifted from the middle of her bed to the left side.

She heard the usual pattern of noises- the window shutting and his shoes sliding off his feet before they padded against the hardwood flooring.

Clint's body weighed down the right side of the mattress, and she felt herself sinking. He wasn't laying down. She sat up and rested her hand against his back. "Really bad tonight, huh?" He made no effort to speak- he barely moved his head up and down in response. She almost missed it. It was difficult to see anything in her room, given the time of day, but the moon provided a small amount of light, and it shone on both of their fronts.

Her fingers traced along his back, leaving trails of tingling sensations that almost made him shiver. He was feeling himself become vulnerable, and quietly gulped down the lump in his throat. In the silent room, he might as well of just screamed at the top of his lungs. Nat knew him better than the back of her own hand. She was aware what every single noise, movement, and word signified.

"Shhh...tell me..." Natasha whispered, making slow, rhythmic circles. Clint, afraid his voice would break if he raised it, also whispered, "Look." She then knew how bad it truly was. She rushed to get off the bed and stand in front of him.

A thick black ring surrounded his left eye, and it was majorly swollen. It was barely open as he stared back at her with pale blue eyes. The right side of his jaw also looked bruised, though shadowing disguised his skin. His lower lip was also swollen and coated with dried blood. His arms had huge, dark welts decorating them.

Jade eyes as round as saucers, she stared at him in horror for a few moments before taking a rushed step away from him to go get an ice pack. He caught her arm before she could leave, and she turned and looked at him, alarmed.

"Don't. I'll wait until the morning." He begged her not to leave or heal him with his beautiful irises.

"It is morning." Natasha argued stubbornly, not falling for it. Clint sighed sadly, and bowed his head in defeat as he released her arm. She approached him and gently pulled his head to rest against her stomach. As she ran her fingers through his dirty blonde hair, he wrapped his arms around her waist.

"It's not your fault, Clint..."

"Says you." he murmured against the thin fabric that covered her torso.

"Stubborn ass." Natasha remarked, deciding not to argue with him any further. She was stubborn too, and it was best at the moment to let him think he was the winner, but also know that she believed otherwise.

Clint chuckled softly in reply. She forced herself away from her best friend and made no effort to be quiet as she went downstairs and grabbed the two ice packs from her freezer.

If they had to wait until morning, it was certainly possible- Natasha just wanted the swelling to die down. Her uncle left the house at 6 for his job, and knew never to venture upstairs for he could wake her up.

He had learned the hard way that his niece was not a morning person.

She hurried back upstairs to find Clint laying on his respected side of the bed. His eyes were closed, but she knew he wasn't asleep. She gently placed a pack on his eye and under his injured jaw, and he hissed in pain and cringed.

He cursed at himself for being so weak. Natasha had always been mentally stronger than him, and he envied her sometimes for this. But he knew why it was so.

They shared many things in common, the main similarity being that both their parents were dead.

A difference, though, is that Natasha didn't blame herself for her parent's deaths. They were killed in Russia by spies when she was about two, and didn't remember them well. Her uncle took her into his care and they moved to New York to get away from any other spies who threatened to kill her too.

Clint, on the other hand, had always lived in New York. When he was five and his brother Barney was eight, they were being babysat because their parents were on a date. Clint got sick, and their parents turned back to take care of them when they were hit by a drunk driver, killing them all instantly.

Ever since that day, Barney had blamed him for their deaths. Every day, he would remind Clint that it was his fault. And eventually, Clint started to believe him.

They moved in with their grandmother, who was nearly deaf, emotionally distant, and extremely forgetful. Barney, never able to let go, began to drink and smoke. He was violent and beat his Clint when he was angry. Any time he tried to fight back, it wouldn't benefit him, and the abuse would get worse. So he just learned to take it and reminded himself about Nat. If he didn't have her, he knew that he would've killed himself long ago.

But he remained silent. If word leaked out that his brother was abusive and his grandmother was unable to take care of them, Clint would have to go to an orphanage, away from the most important thing in his life.

He worked to get stronger, but Barney had three years on him. And was most likely on steroids.

Nat climbed into bed and scooted as close as she could without touching him. He looked towards her, careful to keep the ice pack lodged between his jaw and chest. But then the ice pack rolled off his eye. He sighed as she moved his head back and fixed the fallen pack.

"Can you sleep?" she asked, reaching over and fingering his hair again. A quiet groan of pleasure sounded from his throat as he closed his eyes. "I think so..." he murmured.

It only took a few minutes for both of them to fall into a deep slumber.

* * *

"Nat. I look like I'm fucking gay."

It was the next day at school, and Clint was standing with Natasha at her locker, admiring his face in the mirror that decorated the inside. The swelling had decreased significantly, but his lip was noticeably larger and his skin was still dark with bruises in the punched areas. So Natasha had covered them with makeup. It wasn't apparent unless you really studied his face. Clint, on the other hand, was convinced otherwise.

"You look fine." Natasha argued, slamming her locker shut. Clint frowned, folding his arms. He almost regretted it, both limbs protesting. They were extremely sore still, and the bruises looked worse, even though it was a sign of healing. She rolled her eyes at him. "Are you three? I could've sworn you were fifteen." Clint opened his mouth to reply, but the bell interrupted him, ordering the entire high school to head to their first class. Clint nervously pulled the sleeves of his jacket to his palms, making sure that his arms were hidden. Paranoia was eating at him, because under the jacket was a long-sleeved T-shirt, the sleeves dark purple and the rest black with a white eerie design. He also wore black jeans and purple and black checkered Vans that Nat had bought him for his 15th birthday. He kept three sets of clothes at her house, two for school and one for at night. The outfit he was wearing was one of the few he owned, considering he didn't have a job to earn money and his grandma only took him shopping at the beginning of fall every year. She also kept the money the boys got for their parents being deceased and saved it for their college.

Natasha, on the other hand, was allowed her money, and occasionally babysat. She bought a lot of her own stuff, such as clothes. Which today she was wearing a long-sleeved black shirt that hung off one shoulder and showed some cleavage, dark jeans, and black leather boots. And was secretly making Clint go crazy.

He looked towards Natasha nervously, and she smiled at him encouragingly in return. They quickly made their way towards Algebra before they were late.

Right before they walked in, Natasha stopped him by pushing on his chest, scanned the area, and then stood up on her toes and kissed his cheek. She laughed at his reddening face and then said a sentence that Clint would never forget. He was left alone to collect himself, blushing darker at her flirtatious whisper of comment.

_"I think you look adorable with makeup."_


	2. Smells Like Teen Spirit

**Chapter 2- Smells Like Teen Spirit**

**A/N- Just a normal day in the life of the Avengers in high school! It doesn't focus much on their school work, though. Just their friendship. I will address other relationships as well in later chapters.**

**So I know nothing about gymnastics. Bare with me please.**

**And yeah yeah, I know the title is cliché...but I seriously love that song.**

* * *

"Are you wearing makeup?"

It was lunchtime, and Clint had just sat down as Tony made that comment, and then stood right back up to leave.

"No." Natasha ordered, shoving him back down by his shoulders. He grumbled complaints under his breath, crossing his arms as she took a seat beside him.

They were sitting outside at a circular table with benches for seats, right underneath the shade of an oak tree. It was their table unless it was raining- then they had to cope with eating inside.

"Tony." Pepper warned, sending him a glare that matched her tone. He looked towards the blonde and smiled. "What?" he questioned innocently. Pepper rolled her light blue eyes and apologized for him. "Tony can be an ass sometimes. I only noticed because he said something."

Everyone in the group knew about Clint's home life, so they understood why he was wearing it.

"Hey!" Tony exclaimed, offended.

"Love you." She smiled at her boyfriend with pearly white teeth.

"Prove it." Tony challenged playfully, a flirty tone in his voice. She giggled at his behavior, and leaned closer to him.

Clint nearly gagged and looked away, not wanting to watch them make out right in front of him. He met Natasha's gaze, and was suddenly lost in her eyes. She didn't seem to mind though, searching his own blue-grey pools for any thoughts. She could read him like a book, which was both good and bad. It depended on the situation.

"Hello, everyone." Clint and Nat's eyes flew away from each other, meeting another pale blue pair. Clint cleared his throat, attempting to break the awkwardness that had been occurring.

The speaker was Steve, his blonde hair neatly groomed as usual. He always dressed nice, with pressed, long sleeve dress shirts and nice jeans and shoes.

Today, though, something was different. Not his attire or looks, but the people he approached the table with.

They both had long hair, the taller one with blonde that cascaded down his back and the shorter one with black that barely ran past his shoulders. Both had brilliant blue eyes. The shorter one was scrawny-looking had on a leather jacket, a dark green dress shirt, black skinny jeans, and black leather boots. His skin was almost a sickly-looking pale, and he seemed to have a permanent frown plastered on his face.

The taller one was extremely muscular, with biceps larger than even Tony's big head. He wore a navy T-shirt that was tight and showed off his well-built figure. He also had dark jeans, and black shoes. He had a smile decorating his face, bright and ivory as the moon against his tan skin.

Natasha and Pepper admired the blonde one, both secretive about it because Pepper was dating Tony and Natasha preferred to keep all of her emotions hidden behind a blank face.

"Who are your friends?" she questioned Steve, sounding only slightly interested. Clint was aware of the fact that she was indeed interested, and scowled, wishing that Steve didn't bring the new students over. He realized he was jealous, but he couldn't help it- the girl he wished he didn't have a crush on was interested in a guy that was noticeably better looking than him.

Why did he even like Natasha like that, anyway? It bothered him to no ends. They were supposed to be best friends. How much would he ruin by coming clean? He realized he liked her when they were in eighth grade and they had been dancing together at the Graduation Dance. She had looked so beautiful in her dress- one-strapped, black with diagonal trim that ended in bunches at her left side- that she had taken his breath away- literally, he stopped breathing for a moment. When they danced, despite Clint having two left feet, it was perfect. He felt like they were the only ones left in the room, with her head resting against his chest and his hands lightly touching her waist. The song that played was "Iris" by the Goo Goo Dolls. That song was his life in a nutshell.

"This is Loki," introduced Steve as he motioned to the black haired one, bringing Clint out of his thoughts, "and this is Thor." He pointed to the other. "They're foreign exchange students from Norway."

There was a small murmur of hello's from the table.

"Hello, new friends!" exclaimed Thor, accent foreign, but he spoke English and was easy to understand. Loki sighed in embarrassment, and pinched the bridge of his nose.

They all took a seat and got to know each other. Off in the distance, Tony noticed Bruce laughing and talking with an unfamiliar brown-haired girl. They stopped walking for a moment. Bruce gestured to the table, but she shook her head, smiling. They said goodbye, and went separate ways. Tony made a mental note to question his best friend about that girl later. Bruce approached the table, eyeing the newcomers. "Uh...hello."

Thor jumped up, took Bruce's hand, and began to rapidly shake it. Everyone stiffened- Bruce had an anger problem he was still learning to control. It affected his heart which couldn't reach a certain speed- or else.

"Hello friend, I am Thor! What is your name?" Bruce stared at him with wide eyes for a moment, shocked and slightly irritated but not at all angry. Yet.

"Thor. You're new. But rule one? Don't bother the big man." Tony remarked. Thor chuckled, stepping back. "Big man? You are tiny!" He was only being honest, not trying to offend anyone. And he didn't understand Bruce's condition yet, considering no one had cared to say anything. Loki pulled his brother down without a word, and Thor looked at him questioningly, innocently asking what he did wrong with his gaze.

The rest studied Bruce, but he raised an eyebrow at them and sat down. "I know I'm like a bomb, but I'm not ready to blow." He brought out a plastic wrapped sandwich, and causally pulled the protection off before biting into the food. He was somewhat upset, though, because only Tony really appreciated him for _him_, and wasn't scared of what he was or what he could become.

"It's different here, Thor. People aren't as friendly and you don't know them. You can't just attack them in greetings and hugs." Loki finally informed. His accent was much like Thor's, but his was cool and not as deep. Thor averted his gaze from His brother to Bruce. "My apologizes, dear friend." Bruce continued chewing, and then swallowed before speaking. "S'okay. You're new. Welcome to the group." Tony eyed his him, and Bruce smirked at him. Then he took another bite of his food, as if it were just a normal day and he wasn't attacked by a body-builder of a teddy bear.

* * *

School was long gone for the day, and Clint had just finished working out with Tony and Steve and were heading to pick up Natasha from gymnastics to take her home. They did this very other weekday, and today was Monday.

"We're early." Steve noted as they pulled into the studio. This was true- they usually finished at the gym at 5, grabbed something to eat, and then picked Natasha up at 6 when they had to. This time, though, they were going out to eat with her, considering her uncle was working late that night and she didn't have much to eat at her home. It was 5:14, and they were free to watch Natasha jump around for 30 minutes.

Tony pressed a cyan glowing circle with his thumb that turned his red Corvette on and off by scanning his finger print. He had invented it for himself. Not many people knew how smart he truly was underneath all his cocky manner.

"Gives us time to watch our girl in action." Tony replied. Clint shot him an icy glare, eyes piercing him like daggers. The way he implied that was dirty and inappropriate. The self-proclaimed playboy had a girlfriend, and Nat was officially off limits to all of the guys. Not that he called it like that, but Tony did, long ago when they were in junior high together.

He wasn't saying he minded that call, though.

_No. Stop. You mind._

He hated being so torn about that.

They walked in right as the class was stretching. Natasha was currently doing the splits, and pressing her forehead to her thigh with ease.

Tony elbowed Clint in the ribs. He jumped back, rubbing his side while glaring.

"She's flexible. How hot is that?" Tony remarked, smirking at the hidden message within his words. Clint easily read between the lines and punched his arm angrily, face reddening.

"Ouch." Tony said simply, without flinching.

Steve stayed out of their way, remaining peaceful and quiet, watching with interest as the girls were ordered to stop stretching and start doing gymnastics. Several girls messed up and stopped after flipping over the first bar in a obstacle course of metal bars across posts with mats below to catch the fallen, but they were all young and most likely new.

But when Natasha approached the course, her skills left everyone speechless. Her beauty robbed Clint of oxygen, and he wondered how he was still alive with her looking so...indescribable.

Her fiery red locks were pulled back in a thick bun, and she wore a black unitard with a low, cleavage-revealing neckline. It showed her arms and definitely her legs, all muscular. She stood straight like a trained solider before taking off. She skillfully flipped over and swung on all four bars, not once loosing focus or making a mistake. The entire demonstration was as graceful, and she made it look as easy as breathing. She landed perfectly, arms in the air. She straightened, turned and smiled at her applauders.

"Excellent." her instructor, Mrs. Fisher, complimented, voice enthusiastic as she smiled slightly. Tony clapped loudly and began hooting and cheering as if he were at a football game.

"Yeah! Go Red! Whoo!" Natasha rolled her eyes, but laughed at his stupid behavior. Clint and Steve clapped normally, both smiling, Clint's noticeably wider.

Next were flips on the trampolines, which were in the middle of the building. There were two, and Natasha and another girl both got on one each as Mrs. Fisher walked off for a moment to talk to another teacher.

Front flip, back flip, toe touch- Natasha practiced many different techniques, landing them all without problem. Clint was amazed, although he didn't understand why- she had been in gymnastics since she was five, and he had watched her time and time again.

Maybe it was the fact that she looked so beautiful doing it- concentrated, coated in a single layer of glistening sweat, red hair pulled away from focused bright green eyes.

She jumped up high, and back flipped, expecting to land it.

"Why is she looking at Nat like that?" Clint asked to no one particular, just mainly himself. The other girl on the trampolines had an evil sneer, seeming envious at Natasha's ability compared to hers. She suddenly jumped over to the other trampoline as the Russian was in the air at just the right time, and when Nat landed, her knees were locked and she collapsed.

A roar of laughter started up amongst the class. Tony and Steve exchanged worried glances. Clint rushed to pull his best friend to her feet. "Are you okay?" She took his hand and stood with his help. She blew away a strand of hair that had escaped her bun. Her teeth were clenched, eyebrows furrowed together over green glaring irises. Clint placed a comforting hand on her arm. "Tasha." He knew that her temper was just as fiery as her hair, and she was easily set off.

"Don't. Just tell the teacher." he advised.

"I can't." She folded her arms, watching her attacker jump and speak to a group of girls waiting for their turn. They were all giggling and Natasha knew they were making fun of her.

"Why not?" Clint wondered.

"Miss Romanoff! We don't have time for you to flirt with your boyfriend. Get to jumping!" She felt her blood begin to boil. Clint was _not_ her damn _boyfriend_, and she sure as _hell_ was not _flirting_ with him. She backed away from him and jumped as high as she could, purposely showing off so she would get out of trouble she shouldn't of been in and to try and blow off some steam.

Mrs. Fisher walked by, admiring her jumping students. "Very good, very good." She nodded in approval at Natasha. Then she went to the other student.

"Grace. You have to jump higher if you're going to perform back flips. You could injure yourself otherwise."

"I am jumping high."

"Grace Fisher, don't you argue with me."

Clint then realized why Nat couldn't say anything to her teacher- Grace was her daughter. She probably would go easier on her because that was her child, and wouldn't scold Her as much. Pupils large, he turned to his guy friends. Tony seemed unamused, and Steve's face held a concerned frown.

Cheeks tinted pink, Grace jumped even higher, attempted a back flip, and landed flat on her stomach. All three guys began to snicker, Clint especially because she deserved it. Even some of her friends giggled behind her.

"Needs work." stated her mother bluntly. She sent Natasha off for a job well done. Natasha smiled in success as she jumped off. Karma was indeed a bitch.

* * *

"Did you see her face?! It was priceless!" Natasha exclaimed, bewildered. The group of four stepped from the building, boys laughing at the red-head's excitement. She was back in her normal clothes, and Clint tried to ignore his disappointment that settled on his chest. Not that she looked any worse. Her beauty still managed to leave him flustered.

"That bitch deserved it." Tony scoffed, unlocking his car. His friends piled in, Steve in the passenger and Clint and Natasha in the back.

Tony reached across to the passenger headrest and placed his hand on it as he turned to talk to Nat, and also look through the rear window to make sure he didn't hit anyone while backing out. "So, Red? Where're we going?" His chocolate eyes held their own smile as they searched her emerald.

Her hair lived up to her nickname. That's why she didn't mind him calling her that. But it was only his name for her- anyone she was close to was open to call her Nat, and only Clint was allowed to call her Tasha.

She smirked, accepting his hidden challenge. "Somewhere away from here, Stark."

He revved the engine and flipped on the radio. "Shoot to Thrill" blared through the speakers. Tires squealing in protest, he peeled out of the parking lot, sharp turns causing his friends to fly in different directions.

"Easy, Tony!" Steve shouted, gripping to the handle on the roof of the car for dear life.

"You gotta live more, kid." Tony retorted, denying his friend's request as he slipped on his dark sunglasses. He tore down a paved back road, one that hardly anyone used, and lowered the convertible roof of the car. The wind whipped Natasha's hair against her face, but she didn't mind. She threw her hands into the hair, laughing excitedly. Clint smiled brightly, happy because she was. He was entertained by her free spirit, and her dare-devil manner. She lived life to it's fullest, with no regrets. He only did if he was with her. There weren't many moments when he wasn't, though. If they never met, and Clint was still alive at this point, all he would be doing was either his homework or reading. Maybe even working out, but only by himself. He lived for her and no one else. She knew that, too, and constantly reminded him that she would always be there for him.

"You better not crash, Stark!" Nat yelled over the wind. She unbuckled her seatbelt, scooted to the middle seat, and pulled her feet under her.

"Nat, what are you-" Clint was interrupted by her as she ordered him, "Hold onto me!" She suddenly stood in the seat, and Steve whirled around to face her. "You're insane!" Clint reached up and held onto her waist quickly, fighting the heat rising to his face.

"Not insane! Epic!" Tony corrected in a shout, and replied to a car honk with his own. There weren't many that came down this road, but any who did honked angrily at the reckless teenagers.

Clint's grip was tight, poised to pull her down immediately if necessary. She wasn't worried in the slightest, giggling against the fury of the wind. Suddenly, she peered down at him, her emerald-like irises boring into his stormy ones. She lowered one hand to place it on his own. His heart jumped to his throat, his body resisting a shudder.

He attempted to search her for deeper feelings- he knew he felt strongly about her, but did she feel anything for him? Natasha liked to keep a emotionless barrier if possible. They told each other everything, with the exception of his love for her. If that were a two-way street, then she hid it behind that barrier well enough that he wasn't sure.

Eyes were said to be a window to a person's soul, and he hoped he would find even a tiny fragment of any love for him within those beautiful gems of eyes.

"Hey, Rose, Jack, the Titanic's about to hit the iceberg. Stop being all romantic and sit down." Tony intervened, completely ruining the moment. It was a success on his part, as he smirked at them through the rear view mirror. Natasha lowered herself back into her seat and re-buckled with a light blush and an irritated frown. "We weren't being romantic, мудак." (Asshole) Clint would've chuckled if Stark hadn't called that embarrassing comment out.

"I don't know what that means, but I'm highly offended." Tony replied, knowing he was just insulted. Natasha smirked. "Good."

Clint sighed sadly and admired the outside world, the scenery a blur of different shades of green.

Tony began to slow down as they approached another city. Closing the roof, he made one last dirty comment that caused him to almost run into another car as Nat and Clint both punched his arm simultaneously with bright red faces. He even got Nat to cuss at him in Russian- чертов идиот. (Fucking idiot) He didn't know what it meant, but he did know her, and it wasn't nice.

His award-winning comment?

"You guys better not have sex back there in the next scene."

* * *

When Tony pulled up to the Romanoff residence, it was about nine. "Alright, Red. We're here." He turned to see her and Clint asleep, her head on his chest with his arm wrapped around her. He chucked, brought out his iPhone 5, and snapped a picture of them. Blackmail. The flash alerted his friends jumped, eyes wide yet filled with fatigue. Tony laughed his ass off as both of them stepped out of the car, irritated with the troll. Natasha even made sure to slam the door as hard as she could, just to make him upset. He hated when anyone did that, and smirked successfully at his muffled yelp.

Up in Natasha's bathroom, she was showering, hidden behind a curtain as Clint brushed his teeth. He fought the urge to peak and the hormones that willed him to fantasize joining her. He didn't want sex right now, and hated thinking about it. He was a gentleman and tried as hard as he could to maintain that.

"I love having you here, but you have to go home sometime." she stated knowingly. He spit out the toothpaste that foamed in his mouth to reply. "I know. I told my grandma I was spending the night at Steve's though." He turned on the faucet, watching the liquid and paste drain slowly. He rinsed his toothbrush and his mouth.

"You can't hide from him forever..."

He put his toothbrush and paste on the shelf behind the mirror. "I can sure as hell try."

Natasha sighed at the hurt in his voice, wishing she could wrap her arms around him and take away his pain. Of course, she was in the shower, and his pain was always present, even if he forgot about it temporarily.

She thought about him getting in with her and them beginning a make out session right under the rain of the shower head, and then rapidly shook her head to try and clear her thoughts. She didn't need to be thinking about Clint like that, no matter how much she was secretly attracted to him.

"Well my window's always open."

Clint dampened a wash cloth and wiped the makeup off his face carefully, cringing at the pressure he applied on the sensitive areas. Staring at the peach-stained cloth, he realized how much had been on him. He met eyes with himself as he stared at the mirror. "I know. Thank you." His face startled him, eye still black as night, jaw dark and sore from speaking all day. He had to ignore the pain, though, so no one would suspect.

"No problem. Now get out so I can change."

Clint abided, but he really wished she would've let him stay in there.

_Dude. Stop. Tasha's your best friend and you think about her in sexual ways._

He stripped down to his underwear and then put on a pair of black basketball shorts only. He admired himself in the full-length mirror, rubbing his sore biceps gingerly. He had muscle now, and he was proud of it, but he had yet to gain abs. He brought down his hands and stared at his fingers, suddenly aching to shoot his bow. Of course, he hadn't been home since last night, and had a lot of homework to do at that tome. He had finished when his brother got home, then...

His bruises still looked painful, but the ones on his arms no longer bothered him. He had a decent pain tolerance, but it's not like he went around poking every bruise he had to see if it still hurt him.

Natasha approached him, wearing a black tank and grey Sofie shorts. Her hair was combed but still wet. He turned to her, and she studied his wounds. "Are you in pain?"

"No." She raised an eyebrow at him, smiling knowingly, and then retreated to dry her hair.

As they laid in bed a little bit later, Clint was dead to the world facing Natasha, who couldn't will herself to fall into her own slumber. She cautiously reached out to stoke her best friends blonde bangs that hung in front of closed eyes.

_He needs a haircut._

Clint always liked his hair shorter, though he could surprisingly pull off the shaggy-haired teenager look. Natasha found it adorable, but he always complained about having to whip his head to the side to see clearly. Natasha offered to cut it. She just hadn't gotten around to it.

She couldn't help but notice how vulnerable and innocent he looked in his sleep, and the bruises only added to the vulnerability. She wanted to hug him and hide him from the horrors of the world he lived in. But of course, they were both only fifteen, helpless and without licenses. Until December, that is, when Clint would be both getting his license and turning 16 on the 12th.

Natasha would only have to wait a month after that to turn 16 on he 7th and also gain her license. She couldn't wait, either- she needed to get a job and stop getting rides from Tony every morning. He didn't mind, though- he was rich and could use all the money he needed and still have tons left over. He also took Clint, no matter who's house he was at, his own or Nat's.

It was barely October now. They'd have to hold out a little longer.

Natasha moved her hand away from her best friend's face. She murmured a secret to him, something he could never know. But he was asleep, and she felt the strange desire to speak it. To be on the safe side, she uttered it in Russian.

"Я люблю тебя..." (I love you)

There was a ghost of a smile on his face. She was sure she imagined it in the blackness, though, and she shut her eyes to fall asleep, thinking nothing more of it.


	3. Love, Faith, and Science

**Chapter 3- Love, Faith, and Science**

**A/N- UGH BIRTHDAYS CONFUSE ME SO. I might have to go fix all the ages and crap, but honestly, it doesn't really matter. So if it really bothers any of you, tell me and I'll fix it. Otherwise, it makes no sense.**

**Don't go look and think about it.**

**And I swear, EVERYONE has blue eyes. My gosh.**

**Anyway, so this chapter takes a break from Clint and Natasha and introduces Loki and Avril, Thor and Jane, and Bruce and Betty, and their relationships with one another. Less Bruce and Betty, but there will be more.**

**And the teacher is based off of mine- he's actually really nice but he's also a coach, so he gets irritated easily. Lol**

**Also, my school is stupid, and I haven't had Chemistry yet. And I'm not good at science. So bare with me.**

* * *

_America is strange._

Loki was on his second day of school, and he didn't really understand a lot of the customs here as compared to back home. Sure, he and his brother were raised by a Norwegian father and an American mother, and they already knew a lot about the country, but being there was so much different than imagining it through the stories they were told.

There were many odd things about this school, especially, and among those oddities were the students. They basically had free right to express themselves, so express themselves, they did. He had seen about every single type of teenager known to man- emo, scene, metal head, druggie, hippie, hipster, gangster, smart, nerd, geek, band geek, theater star, hick, popular, preppy, jock...the list could go on for miles.

But one person had particularly crossed his mind as "odd yet approachable." She was in his World History class, and he sat right beside her on the first day. The reason? Her hair was dyed electric blue.

_He noticed the empty seat by her first (for obvious reasons), so he took it. As the teacher walked out into the hall for a brief moment, she turned towards him. "I hear you're from Norway." Her accent startled him- she wasn't American, she was British, similar to him. He pondered over that fact- sure, being British wasn't uncommon in New York, but he didn't know or hear of any other British New Yorker that went here. Pushing the fact aside, he replied stiffly, "Indeed I am." Why was she so open to talk to him? They didn't even know each other. And did word really get around _that fast _that he was from Norway?_

_"Whoa, you don't sound like you're from Norway." He sighed stressfully. He noticed it too, since he had been about ten- was so different from the rest of his family, like the ugly duckling among a group of swans. He had jet black hair, a scrawny build, a different accent, alarmingly pale skin, and was the shortest of the males- he was barely taller than his mother. But the rest of them were all muscular, tall, tan, blonde hair (with the exception of his father, who was greying and balding), and had a different way of speaking- sound and word wise._

_His parents had always told him it was genetics, but conveniently had no photos of their dead grandparents. Loki just assumed they were right. But he couldn't help but wonder..._

_"I was born in the U.K before my family moved back to Norway a couple years later. My accent just stuck I assume." he explained._

_"That's quite uncommon." she informed him. "Usually you pick up the accent in your environment."_

_"Well you don't sound like you're American." He steered the conversation away from him. He wasn't very interesting, anyway, and it wasn't like meeting her was going to impact his life. He wasn't going to talk to her about his problems because they didn't matter to anyone but him._

_"I transferred here last year for...reasons." She seemed secretive about it, so he didn't press her any further. He was guilty of secrets too, and if he didn't admit them, she didn't have to either. Besides, they weren't going to end up friends, especially if she met Thor._

_He couldn't help but eye her hair as he looked in her direction. He chuckled at it before looking back down at his journal._

_"Oh, you like my hair?" She giggled, running her fingers through it._

_"It's...bright." He didn't want to compliment nor insult her, but the way it came out probably sounded rude, which wasn't intended._

_"Thank you." she replied, shrugging nonchalantly. He raised an eyebrow, curious as to how she took that. Her reply sounded sincere but her body language said otherwise._

_Wondering why her hair was such a bright and unusual color instead of something natural, he asked, "Why?" Her answer surprised him. "Why not?" She held a mischievous smirk that made him laugh. She stuck out her hand. "I'm Avril."_

_Loki accepted it and shook once before introducing himself._

_"Loki. I like it." She smiled at him, and he couldn't help but return it._

_Suddenly, the teacher walked back in._

_"Alright." The buzz of voices died down slightly, but not completely. Which made him mad. "Hey, are you guys retarded? How long have you had me for? You should know by now that when I say 'alright', it means shut up."_

_Everyone finally abided, and he began his lesson._

_Loki wasn't really paying attention, just scribbling down random stuff as he pretended to take notes._

_A folded piece of paper suddenly flew onto his journal. He stared at it with surprise for a moment before quietly opening it up._

I love your smile.

~Avril

_He felt blood rise to his cheeks, and he couldn't hold back the wide grin that formed as he read the note. He shyly looked over to her. She was staring down at her own journal, writing notes._

_But she was smiling too._

The group of friends Thor had found were interesting, but they didn't really notice him much because of how quiet and reserved he was. Neither he or they really made an effort to converse.

He trudged into his history class, still not ready for day two although he was well into the school day, expecting to see her bright hair. But she turned out to be gone that day, and he couldn't help but wonder why she was and why he was disappointed about it.

* * *

Thor wasn't too good at anything to do with science.

He wasn't exactly a fan of technology either- during any class, almost all the students had out their electronic communication devices, careless enough not to hide it from the teacher. Their thumbs twitched rapidly, texting, updating Facebook, whatever- he thought it was absolutely useless to own an iPhone..._was Apple on 7 now?_

In chemistry, they were switching up lab partners for the new six weeks.

"Bruce with Elizabeth-"

"Um, it's Betty, sir."

"Right. Bruce and Betty..." Thor tuned out all the names that weren't his. There were so many students, he didn't want a headache from trying to meet them all and know and remember their names.

"...and Thor..." His eyes grew wide. Frantically, he scanned the area. Who was his partner? What was their name? There were crowds of students, conversing with their new partner or their friends. He didn't see anyone who seemed to be his partner.

"Hey." He jumped and turned. There stood a brunette with cerulean irises and a red, grey, black, and blue unbuttoned plaid long sleeve shirt with a red tank under it. She also wore dark jeans and black converse.

"I'm Jane."

"Hello, Jane. I am Thor." Jane suddenly giggled out of no where, confusing Thor.

"Have I said something humorous?" he inquired. She laughed now, almost loudly.

"No, no, I just love the way you speak. It's so proper." He smiled brightly at the compliment. "Why, thank you, Lady Jane." She mirrored his grin.

"Just call me Jane."

After an explanation of what they were doing for that day, which consisted of mixing many different chemicals to create bases and such, Thor was immensely confused. He watched everyone around him before eyeing the beakers filled with liquid in front of him.

"Do you not understand?" Jane questioned.

"I do not. Science is my weakest subject." he admitted, shame in his voice as he hunched over slightly in defeat.

"I can tutor you." Jane offered enthusiastically, eyes shining with excitement.

Thor liked the idea of that. Finally understanding science and all the confusing concepts that he couldn't ever wrap his head around would be relieving.

But he didn't want for her to do it out if pity, or waste her time. He felt stupid when people had to explain things to him, and he didn't want to anger or annoy her if she had to break down concept after concept more as he didn't understand it.

"I do not wish to be a bother."

"Oh, I love teaching others the ways of science." Jane claimed, smiling brightly. Jane was her name, science was her game. Mostly astronomy, but she was completely devoted to the entire subject itself. She was a geek, but it did not bother her in the slightest.

"You do not mind?" Thor questioned, reassuring himself and making sure that she truly wasn't going to waste her time. And if he could help it, she wouldn't.

"I don't. We can start next Monday, if my mom's okay with it and all. And yours." Jane flashed him another confident smile.

Thor was relieved. "I thank you."

After school that day, he spoke with his mother, who was perfectly fine with that arrangement. She was proud of her son for already making so many friends in two days, and for taking the responsibility to be more educated.

"And Loki? How was your day?"

She had stopped him as he was just about to sprint upstairs and hide away in his room. He stared at her for a moment with a blank face before turning away. "It was fine, Mum." He took the stairs two at a time to his room before she could say anything else. He clutched the note he had received the day before in his hand tightly.

As he entered his room- designed how he wanted with alternating dark green and black walls, green and black bedspread on a cornered queen-sized mattress, and a matching ebony wooden dresser and nightstand- he shredded himself of his shoes, socks, jacket, and shirt, leaving him in a black tank and jeans. As if anyone couldn't tell, he loved those colors, as they reminded him of the woods at night- his favorite place to go if he wanted to be alone.

He sat on his bed, the springs squealing in protest, and opened the note for what seemed like the millionth time, as if he were expecting the words to change or disappear.

Of course, they were the same, and so was the feeling that welled up in his chest as he read those five simple words. He didn't understand why he felt so different.

Wanting nothing more to do with the note, he pulled open the drawer in his nightstand and dropped it in there. He closed the drawer to not only his furniture, but also his feelings.

* * *

Bruce loved science with a passion. He was a scientist, his basement at home his lab, his room only a place where he slept, the dining room merely for eating- any other activity took place down stairs. His mom left him alone, and knew better than to disturb him- his dad died when he was young. And he was a spitting image of the man his mom loved.

And now, he suffered from the disease that killed him too.

He didn't think about that too often without breaking something.

He had an anger issue and a heart condition, and both of those together caused him to be as unstable as both the Lanthanide and Actinide series on the periodic table.

But, soon, that would change. He was working on a cure, and he would find it before he and anyone else suffered his father's fate.

He thought about Betty, his new partner in Chemistry. She, much like him, was dedicated to science. If she didn't make a perfect score on anything, she would be upset for the rest of the day. But that's all he really knew about her, and also the fact that she was completely gorgeous with her dark hair and eyes and award-winning smile that jump started his heart.

Which wasn't good at all. He knew he couldn't become close to her. He couldn't risk him hurting her. Or vice-versa. He would talk to her at school, but that was it.

_And no more inviting her to sit with us at lunch._

"You never hang out anymore, Bruce."

Bruce jumped nine miles, heart thumping rapidly at the sudden voice of the intruder.

_Calm down. Breathe in. Breathe out._

After a minute of even breathing, his heart rate was normal. He turned to face Tony, who had broke into his house without setting off the alarms or alerting his dogs at about ten at night.

_Not to mention he almost gave me a heart attack._

_Typical._

"You almost killed me." He was slightly angry. Tony knew better than anyone not to sneak up on him like that.

"But I didn't. You should know how to control yourself by now." It was true that he should know, but it was a long process and needed a solution he just hadn't found yet. It scared him that he could lash out on anyone at any moment. But he was somewhat of a recluse anyway, so no one bothered to talk to him unless they were partners in a project or his friends.

"Controlling myself isn't foolproof, Stark. There are some limits that can be reached." Bruce argued, feeling his temper flare. He couldn't hold everything inside without blowing up eventually.

As if Tony knew what was best for him- he may of been one of the most intelligent individuals known, but that didn't exactly meant he played well with others.

"Don't let people reach them." Tony advised. Bruce released the fists his hands had balled up into and grasped the front edge of his metal examining table instead. "You're really tying to do so, aren't you?" He didn't really think it was Tony's nuisance quality that was angering him- it was the fact that Tony was purposely getting under his skin just to test him.

Like a damn lab rat.

"I am. Don't let me." Bruce released the table, his sweaty fingers creating squeaks as they protested sliding away from the surface. He glared at Tony from afar, but he might as well of been directly in his face.

"Quit treating me like a child! I know what I'm doing, and I know how to control myself!" He realized he was shouting now, his voice booming off every basement wall that closed the room up. Echo's pierced his ears. He slowed his breathing down. "So leave unless you have something better to do." His voice was surprisingly calm for someone who had just blown up like a bomb.

_Oh, he wouldn't know a bomb if it exploded right in his face._

"Why didn't you go out with us?" Tony inquired, ignoring the fact that he was just yelled at. Bruce sighed, and with one swift arm motion, he pointed out every liquid, base, container, formula, and failure that the table held.

"You need to have a little fun, Banner. If you stress yourself out enough, you'll loose it, I'm sure." Bruce knew Tony was right, in his own stupid, arrogant, know-it-all way.

"Fine. You free tomorrow?"

"Hell yeah. We'll hang at my place after workouts and you can stay the night if you want. Dude, I'll even invite Legolas and Spangly and even those new guys- Thor and...what was it? Lucky?"

"Loki. And that sounds good to me." Bruce replied uneasily, unsure of this strange event. Although he didn't entirely mind spending the night with Clint, Steve, and Tony, none of them knew Thor and Loki very well. They were strangers.

But if Steve trusted them, could he? He wasn't exactly great at making friends, either. Would Thor- well, never mind him, he seemed to be the type to love everyone- would Loki accept him? Did it even matter? Or would he anger him and screw up the entire night?

He couldn't let him get under his skin. He couldn't let _anyone_. He needed to get better at controlling himself.

Tony may of known that, but that didn't mean Bruce needed help.

"Sweet. I'll pick you up after school. And don't worry about asking your mom- she loves me after all."

With that statement and a smirk, Tony retreated. Bruce chuckled to himself, and decided to turn in early for the first time in months.

As usual, Tony did have some sense of reality- about his mom loving him, about stress creating a bigger problem- even if he _was_ a complete asshole about it.


	4. They'll Never Believe We're Just Friends

**Chapter 4- They'll Never Believe We're "Just Friends"**

**A/N- I'd like to thank my favoriters, followers, and mostly my reviewers- if you have reviewed and I don't include you, that is because you didn't review on chapter 3.**

**~ShunKickShunKers**

**~Morgan- thank you! I'm not really that upset I don't have a lot of reviews, but we all wish we had more, ya know? But you reviewing means so much. You have no idea. C:**

**Prepare yourselves- there's a lot of heated Pepperony fluff. Normal Clintasha fluff.**

**And there was an alternate scene to the talk Clint and Nat have...but it rushed into their relationship too much. So I replaced it.**

**I might add the scene later on in the story, though, because you Clintasha fans would've loved it. It was sad and hot.**

* * *

Tony's house was ginormous.

He lived in a two-story mansion, but the base of the building was four times larger than an average house. On the outside, the home was coated in what seemed like fresh ivory paint that glimmered in the sunlight. The shutters were attached to the house, permanently unmoving, iron twisted into magnificent swirls. The ebony door was ten feet tall, with a lion head knocker placed in the center. Two of the two story windows had a walk-on balcony, made with the same iron. The railing was twisted into swirling designs as well.

An extremely long driveway that led from a 15-foot tall iron gate circled around the front of the mansion, and a large garage extended from the house where the pavement led to. Trees of many kind covered the lot, though not an overabundance, all of their leaves no longer green. They were much like gems- rubies and ambers of different shades- shinning boldly in the setting sun.

For so many trees, only a few of the colorful leaves scattered about littered the Earth- someone must of had a job to rake them.

As all the guests arrived, their breath was taken away at the sight of the outside.

But the inside, however...

"My God, Tony, it's even bigger on the inside!" gasped Natasha, who was eventually invited to come around the same time Pepper was. The sleepover was strictly "guys only" until the girls discovered of it. Steve then invited them to come, much to Tony's silent despair.

"Yeah, I get that a lot." Tony joked, winking at the blonde beside him, whom he had his arm snaked around her waist. She slapped him hard on the arm, but nonetheless had a wide smile on her face.

Natasha tuned out their flirting, spinning around slowly to admire every aspect of the front room. The floors were marble, white swirling on black. The walls and spiral stairs were colored ivory, railing of the stairs also made of that same iron, leading up to the next floor, which was carpeted in snow white- not a stain penetrated it, and it was almost blinding even from the first floor. Attached to the ceiling was a large diamond chandelier that overshadowed a large section of the middle of the opening. Many doorways led to different rooms, and she couldn't wait to get a tour.

She had seen the outside countless times; she had never expected the inside to look as elegant as it did, even if it _was_ a immensely expensive house that belonged to a wealthy man.

Clint whistled lowly behind her, highly impressed as well. She turned and smirked at him. "Impressive, isn't it?" He nodded in reply, completely mesmerized by the elegance.

And they had only seen the front room.

As everyone else arrived, Tony started the tour, showing them the large kitchen, the just-as-large dining room, the door to the off-limits lab that Bruce was itching to visit, the amazing bathrooms with hot-tub sized baths, the breathtaking living room, the bar (where all the alcohol was locked up), the game room that seemed to have all of the best and popular games, arcade or platform or 3D, upstairs, his expensive-looking room, and the guest rooms.

"The best part? No adults." Tony announced as they reached the front room once more. The group of teenagers- Pepper, Natasha, Clint, Bruce, Steve, Thor (Loki didn't want to go), and Phil, Tony's friend from another school, cheered, but then Tony had to lay out a few rules.

"No going upstairs without my consent."

"No trying to break into any of the restricted areas. That also means no alcohol."

"No sex. I don't really have to worry about most of you tonight, but that rule needs to be thrown out there- and yes, I'm going to follow it to." He earned another slap on the arm from his blushing girlfriend. A couple uneasy chuckles followed that rule. Natasha and Clint knew that he was implying them, and both glared at him with daggers for eyes and flushed cheeks.

"Don't break anything, or I'll kick your ass."

"No pranks."

"No fighting."

"Don't be freaking stupid. Okay. That should be it." The crowd dispersed with murmurs of annoyance and humor, everyone heading to the living room with their own small group- Tony, Bruce, and Pepper, Natasha and Clint, and Thor, Steve, and Phil, who secretly looked up to Steve since the first time they had met. Tony and them had gone out on the town and he had saved a young child from nearly getting run over after running into the street to chase a small rubber ball. The mother started to sob and embraced her child and then his savor. The child was completely oblivious to what had _almost_ happened and was happening.

Phil had always heard about his gentleman-like qualities and small heroic jobs that he accomplished- but this was greater than anything he had ever heard about and he got to see it.

Steve was old-fashioned, which was something the world strictly needed. He was raised on the right track by a single mother and learned important life lessons from a father who died under the influence of alcohol. There weren't many others like him, another reason Phil admired him so.

The living room took everyone's breath away yet again as they entered. It was painted beige, with wooden flooring, a brown leather recliner, and two beige couches decorated with white pillows that had a brown, tan, and beige circle and half circles. On the floor in the middle of the seats and, not to mention, the biggest flat screen TV everyone in the room had ever seen mounted inside the wall over a glass case that held what seemed to be every movie known to man, was a carpet that looked exactly like a bigger, flatter version of the pillows. To the right of the room was the bar with a soda machine, flavor enhancers, glasses of different sizes, candy dispensers with a rainbow of different food items, and a popcorn machine lined with buckets.

"Tony, you live in paradise." Thor stated almost breathlessly. Tony chuckled at the fact that Thor was mesmerized mainly by all the food. "Go help yourself. Just don't make a mess." Thor smiled brightly, feeling like he was in Heaven. "Thank you, friend." He raced over to the snacks and drinks.

"Can I live with you?" Clint inquired, sounding like he was kidding. Tony just chuckled. Natasha was the only one who seemed to realize he was somewhat serious, and she glanced at him, gaze full of concern. His storm cloud-like eyes met hers, and he sent her a weak, lopsided grin.

"Clint?" She reached to place a hand on his bicep, masking her surprise and delight about the feel of his muscles under her fingertips that seemed to burn at the contact. He felt blood rush to his cheeks, electricity running through his arm at the feel of her skin on his.

"Tasha, I'm okay. Or...I will be." He ignored how much he longed for her arms to wrap around him, but they weren't alone, and surely Stark would comment in some way that would hurt him and break something expensive.

Speaking of the devil, they were interrupted by Tony, listing all the possible movies they could watch.

"Remember, we can stay up until tomorrow afternoon watching stuff." he reminded everyone. It was Friday night, and even though the sleepover was originally scheduled for Wednesday, the easiest day to hold it was Friday.

After half an hour of some bickering over a movie, they decided on _Paul_.

"You're kidding me, right?" Natasha muttered. She had seen _Paul_ several times before, and wanted to watch something new.

They all went to separate rooms or bathrooms to change into their pajamas before they watched the film, all of the guys in basketball shorts and T-shirts, with the exception of Thor, who proudly showed off his almost formidable muscles in a tank top.

"Steroids. I blame steroids." Tony muttered to Steve and Phil, but neither of them laughed or agreed.

"Tony, just because he's more buff than you doesn't mean he's on drugs." Steve defended, crossing his arms. He had large muscles too- in fact, everyone did.

Except for Phil. But he didn't mind necessarily- he was more into technology and such anyway, rather than working out.

"Legolas and you are more buff than me as well. I'm not jealous, Rogers." he argued, glaring at him. They were close friends, but they bickered like brothers constantly.

Their argument was cut short when the girls walked in. Pepper had on silk purple mid-thigh-length shorts and a lavender spaghetti-strap lined with lace. Natasha had on red Sofie shorts that also reached mid thigh and a black V-neck spaghetti-strap that showed her entire chest and a decent amount of cleavage.

Clint felt his mouth and through dry up like the Sahara.

_Good Lord, please help me..._

He had seen Natasha dress like that before, but there was just something else that made her seem more...entrancing. Maybe it was the dim lighting in the room as Tony had turned off the main lights and left on a couple lamps and floor lights.

"Guys. Pepper's mine. You can have Red. But Legolas might get pissy." Tony announced as he approached his girlfriend and wrapped his arm around her.

"And don't you look sexy?"

"I could wear a garbage bag and you'd still say that."

"Because you make trash look hot."

Clint was extremely close to sending an arrow through Tony's big, arrogant head. Clenching his fists, he turned to the other guys. "Even if I was dating her, it wouldn't matter. She's not an object. Fucking look away and back the hell off." he snapped. Embarrassed, they turned to each other instead of the girls. Steve was blushing slightly, rubbing the back of his neck. Clint rolled his eyes before looking back at Nat. She was shaking her head in disapproval, but smiling of amusement as well.

He reminded himself to be a gentleman. As if he needed to remind himself, anyway. He didn't want her for his own pleasure.

_I wouldn't mind kissing her, though..._

Blushing furiously, he ducked his head and snuck away to the bar to get something to drink. After all, his mouth was still dry.

Tony put the movie in the DVD player, which slid out of the wall when he hit a button on a remote.

As the previews began, Natasha settled beside Clint on the couch, who had his arm resting on the back. She pulled her legs up and to the side, then leaned into his side, brushing against it.

The electricity was back, sparking where their bodies touched, even if it was only slight. She was addicting, and so was the sensation she gave him. He craved it, and her. He had to control himself, and keep his hormones in check. He couldn't love her. They couldn't be together. She didn't love him. They shouldn't be together.

But he did wonder, in the very back of his mind, how she felt about everything.

* * *

Her side was on fire.

Any place that was in close proximity of Clint was burning, as if she had been out in the sun all day and was left with a crimson burn for skin.

Not that it was uncomfortable, but it was unexplainably...nice. She didn't mind it at all.

She just minded feeling the sensation for _Clint_.

She set a bowl of buttered popcorn on their touching legs, M&Ms scattered within the salty snack pieces.

She constantly peered down as she reached to take some, just so her hand didn't meet Clint's like in those stupid romance films she occasionally watched (She was more into action and sci-fi films).

Clint, on the other hand, prayed that they would touch while grabbing for food at the same time. He wasn't about to go out of his way to make it happen, but a guy could dream, right?

They began to actually start watching the movie, laughing at the funny parts, especially when Paul screamed, "Actually, I'm speaking English you _fucking idiot!_"

That was always Natasha's favorite part. She loved how he went from somewhat serious to down right pissed off, and it kind of reminded her of herself.

That's when the corny, cheesy, love moment happened.

Instead of popcorn, Natasha felt herself grab skin, two fingers in the hand of her best friend and long time crush.

A mixture of flames and lightning exploded from their hands. Flushed cheeks faced each other, grey-blue irises staring into jade. His were hopeful. Hers were filled with what only Clint could recognize.

Fear.

Natasha's hand whipped away from his as if it were the head of an anaconda. He looked hurt, and she knew for sure he was.

_No no no no. I can't do this._

She jumped up and all but flew out the living room, almost running over Tony and Pepper.

Tony looked up at Clint.

"What did you do, go to second base?"

Clint made sure to kick Tony in the back of the head _hard_ as he climbed off the couch and raced in the direction that she did.

Why did she run off like that? Why did she seem scared? What had he done? It was just an accident- he wouldn't of tricked her into grabbing his hand. He searched frantically around.

_She could be anywhere..._

She had disappeared. He wasn't surprised, though. Her parents had been spies, after all, and she carried both their genes. It didn't help that he was unfamiliar with the house. She could've been anywhere. He checked the entire first floor, then outside- it was already dark, and he couldn't see much.

He couldn't think much, either.

His brain always functioned better when he was high up, staring at the ground from above. He also could see better from a distance, although he didn't have bad eye sight. He decided to go to on of the balconies he had noticed earlier, hoping to get some much needed air into his lungs. He was having a hard time breathing.

As he reached Tony's room, the one of two rooms with a balcony, he realized that something was off- Tony's door was open.

He had closed it when they had finished touring the room.

Quietly opening the door, he slowly made his way through, avoiding all obstacles.

He peaked out the balconies screen doors to find Natasha sitting on the floor of it, legs dangling between the iron bars, forehead pressed against the one in front of her.

He opened the doors as quietly as he could, though no longer trying to sneak up on her. He just felt the need to be quiet.

"Tasha...?"

A sigh emitted from her lips. When she spoke, her voice sounded slightly broken.

"I'm sorry."

* * *

"Ow..." whined Tony, rubbing the back of his head. His entire act was over-exaggerated, in his usual Tony-style, but the impact had seriously hurt. Pepper raised her eyebrow at him knowingly, smiling an amused smile. "You had it coming."

"I know..." he whined, pouting. Pepper smiled even brighter, rolling her eyes. "Would you like me to kiss it?" She was being sarcastic, but he nodded anyway. She reached around slowly and pressed on his neck to bring his head down. Then she kissed the wound, feeling a welt on her lips. As she drew back, she let them brush across the side of his face, resulting in him taking a deep breath and leaning into her as she entered kissing distance. She didn't let him kiss her, though, and felt the bump with her fingers gently.

"Looks like he got you pretty good." He winced, then drew closer to her again. "Make the pain go away?" he pleaded in a whisper as he wrapped his arms around her hour-glass waist. She laughed as she shook her head. "You're such a drama queen."

"But I'm your drama queen..." As he leaned in for a third time, Pepper allowed their lips to meet in a passionate kiss, whereas Tony lustfully deepened it and pulled her onto his lap.

She enjoyed it, but they had guests. She pulled away, earning an irritated sigh. "Anthony Stark." she scolded in a motherly tone.

"C'mon, let's go upstairs...they won't even know we left." he pleaded, in between neck kisses. She giggled before gently pushing him away. "No, Tony! Maybe tomorrow..."

"Later." he bargained, smirking at her. She rolled her eyes, still smiling as she was amused. "Make-out session later. Nothing more than that. And it won't last long." He agreed with that, knowing that it would eventually turn into more anyway. She climbed off of him and went to the bar to grab a drink. Tony watched the way her hips swayed in her shorts, and he sighed in pure bliss, wishing she would've just given into his request.

Surprisingly, no one had noticed the heated moment between them, all eyes trained on the comedic movie. Tony averted his attention from his girlfriend to the screen, and laughed hysterically as Paul disgustingly ate a bird.

* * *

"Why'd you run off?" Clint inquired as he walked over to her. The iron froze his bare feet, and as he sat beside her cross-legged, he shivered.

Clint's hurt face is why she ran off. If he liked her...she couldn't. They couldn't be together. If they tried and it didn't work out, they would never be the same. They couldn't be as close as they were. Sure, she would be affected, but she was more worried about how Clint would take it. She was his safe haven, the only one he could go to if he needed someone. If he lost that, he wouldn't survive.

"I needed some air."

Clint wasn't completely clueless. He had an idea of what had happened. He just didn't know why she ran off. After all, the moment was completely accidental. He didn't plan it on purpose. He hoped she didn't think that. "Did I do something?"

"No, no..." Relief washed over him, allowing his tense muscles to relax. Good. So he was in for the clear. Now, he needed to find out why-

"Wait. Yes." The relief seemed to disintegrate into nothing as guilt churned his stomach. "Shit. What did I do? Or is this one of those 'you should know what you did' times?" Occasionally, Clint would screw up, and he'd ask her what he did. Then she'd get even angrier and claim that he should know. Then she wouldn't talk to him again until he figured it out or one of them broke.

Natasha sighed, pressing her head against the cool metal bar that was directly in front of her face. Heart picking up speed from nervousness, she stated, "You just...Clint, you looked upset when I pulled my hand away."

Clint gulped in fear of where this conversation would go. Did she know that he liked her now? Should he admit it? Should he lie? Or tell part of the truth?

Considering she had fled, telling the entire truth was out of question. And he didn't want to lie to her.

Realizing he had been silent for too long, enough to rouse suspicion, he spoke quickly, "Nat, we've held hands before and suddenly you yank your hand away as if I'm on fire or something." Nat tried ignore the irony of his statement. He might as well of been on fire, considering that's what she felt every time they touched. "When we're comforting each other, we hold hands, yes...but...ugh. I dunno. I've been thinking too much lately, I guess. You know me. Always stressing out over stupid shit." She couldn't. She couldn't say what was really on her mind.

Besides, he didn't like her, he just felt hurt because he thought he did something wrong. It was her turn to be relieved. Maybe that statement was true, and had caused her to come to a realization. She needed to stop over-thinking and stressing out so easily.

But she couldn't ignore that slight disappointment that lingered in her stomach that Clint didn't like her.

_It's for the best_, she reminded herself.

Clint snorted, smiling that wide smile that Nat secretly loved. "How do you over-think accidental hand holding?" She laughed as well, somewhat embarrassed. "Well I just...we're just friends, deapite the popular belief that we're not. I know you don't like me. But if you did...I just wouldn't want anything weird going on between us, you know? Considering it would affect and possibly ruin us?" Suddenly, Clint wanted to retreat to the roof and shoot his arrows- he had brought them and his bow and quiver, just in case. Pull back an arrow, release it, and his stress.

It was official. Natasha didn't like him like that. He tried to mask his disappointment, but given the circumstances, it was hard. He felt like his heart had just gained a hundred pounds and had fallen into the pit of his stomach before breaking into millions of fragments.

...okay. So he was a little more than disappointed.

"...yeah. I know." He didn't even sound like him. Would she buy it?

She didn't seem to notice, which was very un-Natasha-like. "Good. Now, should we get back before Stark tells everyone we're hooking up?"

"He won't say anything. I kicked him in the head for a stupid-ass comment he made after you ran off."

She didn't even want to know. "Oh. Thanks."

"Don't mention it. But we really should get back." He needed a distraction so he didn't break down and become even more depressed. He wanted to be happy, and happy with his best friend.

But could he do that when he had basically been rejected?

"Yeah." She agreed, thankful that he didn't notice her growing disappointment that she innerly cursed herself for having.

But even she knew she couldn't be emotionless.

* * *

"Oh c'mon! How did you beat me?! It was a tie!" Tony shouted, angry and in denial about his loss.

"I clearly won by point thirty-nine seconds." Steve informed, motioning to the times in the corner of the screen.

"Thirty-nine _hundredths_ of a second." Tony corrected, just to be a smart-ass.

Bruce and Clint, the only relatively calm players in the game room, exchanged annoyed glances. Clint set his Nintendo 64 controller down and wiped his sweaty hands on his shorts. "Guys. It's fucking _Mario Kart._ Calm the hell down." he snapped at Tony and Steve, in which Tony was only irritated because someone had beat him. Obviously, Clint was still in a bad mood about being friend-zoned. He wanted to forget about it, but he also wanted to talk to someone he could trust.

Natasha being the one he went to for everything, that would be difficult.

"Rematch!" declared Tony.

"I thought that another race follows this one and determines the winner?" Thor stated, watching the guys play video games rather than participating. He was also speaking occasionally with Phil. Natasha and Pepper were sitting at the bar in the other room, talking and sipping on sodas and munching on whatever their fingers found.

"Yeah, but Tony wants to start all the way over because he's a sore loser." Phil teased with a smile, receiving a glare from the said male.

"We ready? Great. Because we're on Rainbow Road now." Clint rushed with an irritated tone, before Tony could pick a fight with Phil. He picked up the grey controller as the starting music played.

_3, 2, 1..._

The four took off, leaving the computer players in the dust. They battled for first, constantly switching between it and 4th place.

"How are they alive if they are in space? And are there really colorful lights in the shape of strange beings floating over a raceway?" Thor questioned, staring at the bright colors on the large flat screen.

"It's a video game, Thor." Steve stated simply, which answered all of his questions even though he was still slightly confused. "I apologize. We just recently received an X-Box three-hundred sixty from my aunt and electronics are still somewhat foreign to me."

Steve muttered what seemed like an acceptance, but his mumbling was incoherent as he focused on moving to first in the rankings.

In the end, Steve did win, and Pepper led Tony upstairs so he didn't fight Steve anymore (and possibly hit him) and so she could make him feel better.

"They're going to be up there all night." Phil sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. Tony may of been one of of closest friends, but that didn't mean that he approved of everything he did.

"What happened to following the rules?" Steve grumbled, attempting to rub away the blush on one of both cheeks.

"We should all know by now that Tony doesn't follow rules- even if they are his own." Phil replied, and he couldn't help but grin.

Thor finally caught on as to why everyone held looks of disgust and mimicked theirs. "I don't want to hear them participate in sexual intercourse."

Steve felt the blood boil beneath his cheeks, hotter now than a few moments ago. He was always embarrassed about stuff like that, and didn't like being inappropriate like the others could be. "Thor. Please don't say that word."

"I apologize." He knew he said those words a lot, and wondered if he would ever not have to say sorry for doing or saying something wrong. He was from somewhere different and it was hard to grow accustomed to the American culture. Upset that he would probably never fit in, he slumped over with his large hands cupping his chin.

Steve placed a comforting hand on his muscular shoulder. "It's okay. You're still new around here. You just have to get into the swing of things." Thor met Steve's reassuring gaze, and then mirrored his friendly smile.

Phil just wanted everyone to calm down and felt like it was his job to keep things under control. He smiled at Steve's kind nature, and then suggested, "Well, let's watch another movie!" As they relocated to the living room, he put _The Hangover _in the DVD player, everyone got situated in their designated place- Clint and Natasha shared one couch, Clint pressed against the back of it and Natasha laying in front of him, Bruce laid by himself on the other, Thor reclined in the chair, and Steve and Phil laid near each other, each graced with a huge amount of blankets and pillows.

"What were you and Pepper talking about?" Clint whispered in Natasha's ear as Steve attempted to skip through the previews.

Natasha shivered as his warm breath spilled over her ear and down her neck. "Oh, just girl stuff." she answered in a steady voice.

Clint felt somewhat hurt, but he didn't press her any further. He did understand that sometimes she would feel uncomfortable with telling him stuff. Besides, he needed to talk to guys more too, right?

He just didn't want to loose her. And after tonight, even with her pressed against him and the electricity sparking, he felt her slipping away like sand through the gaps of his fingers.

* * *

**A/N- Okay guys- I love music. Everyone does. But the first one who guesses which song inspired this chapter, you get to next one dedicated to you, and I'll go check out your stories and such if you have any! And same for the third chapter (the second one is too obvious), since that one was inspired by music too. Your hint? The title. The 3rd chapter is easy but this one is hard because the title is lyrics in a song.**


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